


Of the Same Coin

by theoriginalcheeesecake



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6551866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoriginalcheeesecake/pseuds/theoriginalcheeesecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being great comes with a price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey doods, 
> 
> I thought I'd post this here as well as FF and Tumblr, because why not, and the tagging system is a lot better. Hope you like. It came from a prompt given to me by an anon on Tumblr for klarolineauweek - the prompt being superhero/villain AU. PLease pardon any grammatical/spelling mistakes! It goes unbeta-ed. This is going to be quite a dark, angsty story (I think) so proceed with caution... There's also allusions to Damon's assault of Caroline in the first chapter, and further down the track homelessness, violence, probably smut, and a few other things not everyone will be comfortable with. Just to let you know. 
> 
> Anyway, tallyho!

When Caroline Forbes had been but a child, she wished more than anything to be special.

She wished on shooting stars, when she blew dandelions, on birthday candles, eyelashes, wishbones, rainbows, four leave clovers, at fountains and anything and everything she could think of, yearning for her wish to come true.

She wished her fervent wish because, maybe, if she was special, her dad would come back, maybe, her mom wouldn’t work such long hours, maybe Damon wouldn’t be left in charge. Maybe if she was special, the other girls in the school would like her as much as they liked Elena. Maybe if she was special she would be able to make sense of the empty chasm that she felt within her.

Then late one night, not too long before her 13th birthday, Caroline was taking shelter in her room, the TV blaring downstairs not quite blocking out the stumbles and mumbles of Damon in the house, drinking himself stupid.

She knew what would come next, it always came next.

Cowering between her sheets, hearing him stagger nearer and nearer, she wished, like she always did in these moments, she could be special. Maybe if she were special enough _this time_ it wouldn’t happen again.

Suddenly, there was another man in her room. He was much the same build as Damon, and desperate tears sprang into her eyes – there couldn’t be _two_ of them.

“I hear your wish, little girl,” the man said. His voice wasn’t dark, or nasty. On the contrary, it was soft and gentle, and had a beautiful accent that was music to her ears. “You wish to be special.”

She nodded her head vigorously, tears streaming down her face.

“But is that what you _truly_ wish for?” the man asked, moving closer. Even to her childish eyes, Caroline could see the man was very beautiful. Twinkling eyes, peaking dimples, and a smile that should have warned her to his mischief. “Because I believe, you’re confusing ‘special’ with ‘great’. I see countless people, everyday, and I know they’re _all_ special. Even little old you.”

He was sitting on the edge of her bed now, and booped her nose as he said ‘you’. She wasn’t sure why he made her feel safe, but he did. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, and, just maybe, while he was there, Damon wouldn’t come.

“I’m not special,” she said, casting her eyes down. “My dad didn’t stay, and my mom always works.”

“Special comes in many different forms, but _greatness_ ; that’s what you truly want. Special is what everyone else is, and is that not just another way of saying no one is?”

There was something hypnotic about his stare, something reeling her in, something in her mind that was making her hang on to every syllable of every word.

"But I'll let you in on a little secret: there's a whole world out there waiting for you. Great cities, and art, and music. Genuine beauty. And you could have all of it. You could have a thousand more birthdays, all you have to do is ask."

His words were worming their way into her young mind, and taking root. She could see the possibilities, hear the sounds of the music he described, feel the greatness at the tips of her fingers. Her mouth was forming around the words ‘I wish to be great’, were almost tumbling from her mouth when she felt it.

The tiniest hint of darkness seeping in with his promises.

This was a strange man, and Caroline had more experience with strange men than she wanted to think about. She could feel his darkness engulfing her mind, and suddenly she was standing up from her bed, and she could feel her limbs begin to dance of their own accord.

Somehow, she knew it was him that was making her do this, it was his darkness invading her mind. So, she did what she always did when penetrated with an unwanted force.

She fought back. 

She let years worth of fighting Damon come to the forefront of her mind, and she pushed the shadows away, until she had complete control of her body again.

Her brow furrowed at the man sitting on her bed, and he had suddenly lost the gentle, playful aura he’d previously held. Now he looked cool and calculating.

“Well, well, well, quite the strong mind you have, Sweethe–“

But his words were cut short as Caroline lost control of the energy she held in her mind and unleashed it on him.

Having her mind invaded woke a dormant part of her she never realised she had. A bright white energy knocked the man from her bed, until he lay sprawled on the ground.

She stood over him, the rage she felt at having her mind invaded like that consuming her. She seemed to be humming with the mysterious force; things were falling off her her selves, and her desk as it vibrated through the room.

“What did you do to me?” she asked, her young eyes giving away how terrified she actually was.

“It seems you granted your own wish,” he said with a smirk. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, Caroline Forbes.”

And before she could blink, the man vanished from her bedroom floor.

Caroline was still shaking with the energy that was thrumming through her, when Damon opened the door a few moments later.

“Wow, Barbie,” he slurred. “A light show. For me? You shouldn’t have.”

Caroline turned the full force of her newly discovered powers on the man she loathed beyond any other. The books, pens and other items that had fallen from the surfaces only moments prior, suddenly shot themselves at the despicable man in her doorway, as Caroline twisted herself to face him.

They slammed into him, knocking him backwards so far that he tumbled down the stairs, head over heels.

Caroline floated along the same path, her feet not once touching the ground, the trance she was in carrying her, until she was hovering over him.

Her twelve-year-old arms went to his face, and she dug her fingernails into his cheeks, scratching three lines down it, causing him to scream in pain. Clumsily, she let the light she fought the other man with invade Damon’s mind, the same way the darkness had invaded hers.

She didn’t know how she did it, but she made Damon feel all the pain he had ever caused her, and he writhed in agony beneath her. She kept blasting him with her power until, like a switch, the light turned off, and Caroline was spent and weak.

She came back to her senses, and was overwhelmed by what the hell had just happened. The power had flowed through her so easily, so uncontrollably, she could barely remember how it even happened.

She looked down and the man she had just attacked, and noticed his eyes staring, unseeing, at the ceiling. Her own eyes widened in shock, and her heart pumped, faster than she ever felt it, as she registered his wasn’t pumping at all, and his chest wasn’t rising

She recoiled from the body, scrambling backwards until she hit the wall. She cowered there for a number of moments, taking in what she had just done.

Damon was dead.

And she had killed him.

The tears which had dried up with the other man’s promises of greatness, came back in full force, and she didn’t know what to do. Her mother would never forgive her. Damon was her best friend.

So she did the thing her pop-culture filled mind told her was the only option.

She ran.

She grabbed the things she loved most – her teddy, a picture of her and her parents, a necklace her father had given her on her 8th birthday – she packed a few clothes, grabbed all the cash from her mother’s secret stash, and took off.

At only twelve-years-old, Caroline left behind everything she knew, because she was a murderer, with powers she didn’t know how to control, or even how to comprehend.

She ran with tears in her eyes, not knowing where on earth she would go or what on earth she would do.

She caught a bus, the first bus that would take her anywhere from Mystic Falls, and away from the disappointed and anguished eyes of her sheriff mother, when she realised her daughter had killed her best friend.

She was headed east, she thought, but she couldn’t be sure.

She stumbled off the bus a few hours later, her stomach grumbling, the Saturday sky darkening, and managed to find a little diner, much like the ones that were in Mystic Falls.

She nearly cried again.

“Are you lost, sweetie?” the kind looking woman behind the counter asked. “Do you need help finding your mommy?”

Caroline shook her head, furiously, not trusting her voice quite yet.

“I just want an orange juice and a grilled cheese sandwich?” she asked, her voice sad.

The lady smiled sympathetically and nodded, as Caroline handed over the correct amount of money, and went to sit back in her seat.

A small tear rolled down her face, when the clock struck seven, and she knew her mother would be returning to their house.

Caroline ate half her food, and saved the rest, she wasn’t sure when she’d next get the chance, and she wanted to save the little money she had. And it wasn’t as if she could taste it, too preoccupied was her mind.

Her young legs carried her back to the bus station half an hour later, and she gazed up at all the different ones going different places.

Then she saw one that left in ten minutes to New York, and she knew that would be her final destination.

A city with so much life already surely wouldn’t notice one more lost soul. 

She clambered onto the bus, wholly unsure of what her life would be from now on. But as she alighted the bus at the other end of her journey, and took up residence in an alley, next to the nicest looking women on the street, the cold wind that bit her flesh, and the sickening leers she got from the men who walked passed, she had a pretty good idea of what was to come.

But accompanying the grief of losing her family, her home, and the guilt of what had happened to Damon, there was a small spark in her chest, and a bright light in her mind. It kept her warm, like a blanket, because she knew she was special – _great_ – and she knew she’d be able to keep herself safe.


	2. Chapter 2

As students began to flood into the hallways, she was swept along with them, fighting the throngs of people, she quickly made her way to her locker, retrieved what she would need for the weekend, and traipsed towards the school's entrance.

She was almost clear of the grounds, when she heard a voice.

"Elena!" the voice called. Her blonde hair whipped around and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. That was at least until she saw who it was.

Jesse was a nice guy. He was lovely, and sweet, and easy on the eyes.

"Hey Elena," he smiled, as he caught up to her. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Umm…" she faltered. "Just studying, I guess."

"Do you want to come out with me tonight? I have two tickets to see The Strokes tonight. It could be fun."

For a moment, she saw the night flash before her eyes. She saw herself getting ready, primping, putting on make up, donning a killer dress. She saw him picking her up, and her father checking Jesse's wallet for condoms, and her mother sighing playfully at her husband's antics. She saw his smile, and her laughter, while the music washed over them. She felt his hand in hers as he walked her back to her building, where her brother was waiting to tease her about going out with a boy, and where she would immediately call her best friend and they would fall about giggling over the details of the night.

But it was all snatched away from her when she remembered she wasn't Elena Gilbert. She didn't have a father, mother or brother, or even a home. She didn't have best friends, and even the people she was close to she kept at arms length because it was just safer that way.

"No," she said, bluntly, already pulling away from the boy. "I can't."

With that she was gone, her legs taking her towards the school gates fast.

She was suffocating under her secret, under her lie.

She lost herself in the beating hearts of people lining the New York City streets, and with each step into anonymity she felt herself relax, fractionally.

She scurried to crowds, not looking up to see the faces of more people she didn't know or care about. Her feet were taking her down a path she had been on many a time.

As she reached her alleyway, two hours later, she let out a relieved sigh, her heart unclenching.

Caroline sat back against the wall of the quickly darkening alley, her head hitting the hard wall behind her. The breeze still nipped her skin like it had the day she arrived in the city, only this time she was used to it.

This alleyway was her current home. It was by no means glamorous, but it was more sheltered from the elements than other places she had lived.

As she looked around at her 'home', she sighed. She couldn't have Jesses take her places. No matter how nice it would have been to feel normal for a change. She pulled her school things towards her, and began reading.

A few hours later she stopped working as her stomach growled loudly, but it was a Friday night. Food was hard to come by on the best of days, but Fridays even more so.

She put her book away and curled into a ball, hoping to stave off the hunger with sleep. But her mind wouldn't let her settle, too focussed on the lie.

She managed to talk her way into a school a few years back, creating an entirely different back story to cover her reality. By day, Caroline was Elena Gilbert, just like her childhood friend. She had parents, who had real jobs and were always around. She had a brother who loved her and would do anything for her. Her family wasn't poor, but wasn't rich either. They were the perfect, nuclear, American dream family. She didn't talk much at school, for fear of being found out, but whenever she did, she was filled with an infallible sadness. She worked hard, harder than almost any other student, and she did well, but that didn't fill the void left by the web of lies she'd weaved around herself.

But when 3pm rolled around, and she stepped from the school grounds onto the bustling streets, her Elena Gilbert mask was dropped, and she became Hiraeth.

She was strong, powerful, and people learnt quickly not to mess with her, no matter how young she was. She stole and sweet-talked herself food and essentials to survive if it came to that, but never once succumbed to joining the gangs who bullied and hurt to get what they wanted.

But she was lonely.

She guarded her true identity as though it was the most precious secret she had. And she supposed it was.

In the weeks, months even, following her disappearance from Mystic Falls, her face and name had been plastered everywhere. They were splashed across every TV news reel and every newspaper nationwide. Of course it had, a twelve-year-old girl missing, the same girl who was suspected of killing her babysitter. But none of the stories talked about the violent drunk Damon was, nor the fact that Caroline was left alone with him four of seven days a week.

Nope, the news just showed a grieving mother, losing her best friend and child in one fell swoop. There were feature articles written on Liz, about how difficult it must have been to raise a child single handed, while also being the town sheriff. There were stories about what a great member of society Damon was. There were speculations about how psychopathic and disturbed Caroline must have been to do those things to someone.

Her name still came up on talk shows every now and then, or whenever the body of a young girl was found. And she flinched every time it did.

At fifteen, Caroline got a job a newspaper stand. She made very little money, but it was enough to keep her fed, and, more importantly, informed. She was able to keep her ear to the ground and keep up with the happenings of the world. But, with every passing week, it became more and more apparent that people like her weren't accepted by society.

In the few months that followed the discovery of her powers, Caroline wore them like a badge, too naive was she to realise she should keep them to herself. She practiced, and honed her skills, learning how to control the energy. She learnt that she could move objects, plant ideas in another person's mind, and control them, much like the man from her bedroom.

Although, once she learnt she had that power, she tucked it away, never wanting to touch that box again. She knew the terror of someone invading and controlling your mind and body.

But, before too long, the MRD was sniffing around the streets, trying to flush out anyone with mutant abilities, and Caroline hid it all, only using them when she needed to.

Despite this, Caroline could never help sticking her nose into trouble. She felt a duty to help people. To save people the way she could never be saved. She never injured or killed anyone, but she would help those that needed it, and scare others into submission.

And that was who Hiraeth was. A helper, an aide. Someone who did a thankless job because it was the only way to help keep herself from letting the darkness consume her.

As sleep continued to evade her, Caroline wondered, for perhaps the millionth time, whether she made the right decision running away five years earlier. Would she have been safe in Mystic Falls after killing Damon? Would her mother have believed her? Would they have turned her into the MRD if they found out? Would she ever find a place where she felt safe?

She rolled onto her back, her eyes opening so she could gaze up to the smoggy, light polluted sky above.

That was the big question. Would she ever feel safe? Would she ever be able to feel that security people talked about in stories, or people at school talked about. Would she ever _belong_ anywhere?

Being a street rat, you met many people, all with stories as heart wrenching a complex as your own. You looked out for each other, and helped each other when you needed it, but Caroline, being a mutant, felt like she could never _truly_ be one of them. Even when she met other mutants, they were all too afraid of the MRD to stick around.

As she lay there, her mind drifted, as it so often did, back to the man from her bedroom. He must have been a mutant too, and had similar powers to her. She hated him for how viciously he changed her life, but in a strange was, she had grown to love him for saving her from her own weakness. She was empowered by her abilities, even if she rarely exercised the full extent of them.

She would tap into them if someone was out numbered and desperately needing help. But more often than not she kept them to herself. No matter how far she'd come controlling them, she would never forget what her loss of control had cost her that first experience.

She rolled back on her side, trying to find comfort on the hard ground, and trying to divert her mind from reanalysing what happened that night five years ago.

She shut her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep when –

_CRASH!_

She jumped to her feet, her blanket falling away, suddenly on alert. She may live on the streets, but from the sheer volume of that noise she knew it was no regular street brawl. While she never _looked_ for trouble, somehow it always managed to find her. There were loud shouts coming from one end of her alley; the end that had a bar.

Call it the detective's blood running through her veins, or her time on the streets without TV, or maybe it was the slight hero complex she'd developed over the years, but she never could resist sticking her nose into drama if it arose near her.

She padded down the to the end of the alley on silent feet, and peaked around the corner. What she saw was fifteen MRD uniformed men, armed to the teeth, in a serious battle with one man.

The man was vicious looking, spikey hair, a feral look in his eyes and from his knuckles, protruding like claws were three metal spikes.

He was fighting valiantly, but more officers were flooding into the street, and Caroline knew there was no way the man would escape if she didn't lend a hand.

She scrunched up her face in concentration and anticipation of the feeling to come. As she summoned the power to the forefront of her mind, she le the bring, light power flow from her mind and blanket the entire street, and soon everyone was immobilised, trapped by her light.

Caroline had never used her abilities on such a large scale before, and it was draining her quicker than expected, but she swiftly sifted through the different minds, until she found the mutant one.

Over the course of her vigilante years, she found that mutant minds she different from human ones. There was a different energy, a different _something_ that connected all mutantkind, and every time she felt it, she felt a little more at home.

They were her people.

She let her control of the mutant flow away, and immediately she felt a little stronger. He had been fighting her control very hard it seemed.

As he regained his mobility he glared menacingly at Caroline, who just quirked an eyebrow, jerking her head in the direction of her alley. She'd been living on these streets for five years now, she knew every crack and crevice, and every route for disappearing.

"You have wheels?" she prompted, as the metal-clawed man still didn't' move to follow her.

"Not anymore," she growled, throwing his gaze to where a motorbike stood with slashed tyres.

"Then follow me."

With that, Caroline darted down her alley. She could feel her hold over the humans begin to waver, and she truly hoped he was following her, because unless she got a chance to recharge her batteries, she wouldn't be able to help him a second time.

As she passed the space where her things were, she paused to grab them. She didn't know when she'd be able to come back, and she couldn't risk the MRD finding the picture of her mother. She didn't have much anyway, and it took her less than five seconds to scoop her possessions into her arms. Luckily, by that time, the man had caught up with her, and they were off, tearing down the street.

Caroline led them left, right then left again over the next fifteen seconds, and that's when she felt her connection with the officers break. If she was honest, she was proud she managed to keep it up so long. She stumbled slightly as their consciousness' left hers. It was always such a powerful and emotional experience, feeling their minds with hers.

"Where are we going?" the man barked out, but too exhausted to speak, Caroline jus shook her head and kept running.

Before much longer, Caroline was forcing her way through a door that usually stood locked and relatively hidden. It was a small hideout she had cultivated for herself after she had started helping people, in case a situation ever arose where she'd need a quick hideout. It was strange, she knew, to live on the weathered streets, when she had a shelter at her disposal. But you couldn't live in your hideout, could you?

Once through the door, she slammed it shut, sealing it with the last vestige of power she had, before she collapsed, shivering on the ground, and she felt nothingness eating at the corners of her vision.

She _really_ hoped she hadn't just rescued a murderer, or a kidnapper, or worse, a rapist.

But as she her battle with consciousness, she realised there was nothing she could do about it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello wonderful humans. 
> 
> Here is part two. Hope you like. My sister thought Hiraeth was too complicated a superhero name, but I think it suits Caroline, both in this story and in canon. It's basically a Welsh word that doesn't directly translate to English, but sort of is like a homesickness that's tinged with grief/sadness/yearning/nostalgia for your home, and has sort of come to mean a homesickness for a place you've never been or a home you've never had. I think it fits and I love the word. ALSO, sorry-not-sorry but the idea of Caroline and Logan hanging around together? YES PLEASE! Love. For anyone super into the X-Men anything this is going to be sort of movie-canon compliant... But also not? I don't know. It works in my head, and shouldn't be too confusing without context? If it does, let me know. ANYWAY! By for now, not forever!! (P.S. once again, no beta! So please forgive mistakes I didn't catch!!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! I wanted to get this out today, but I'm real tired so I've not reread at all so please forgive me the terrible mistakes! Today has been a hot mess of a day, so hopefully this can be the day's saving grace. :) We're in for another time jump within the next couple of chapters I think, and then KLaroline will actually get to interact. :P LET ME KNOW WHAt you think. By for now not forever! xxx

When Caroline came to, she snuggled into her bed.

For some inexplicable reason, she couldn't wait to get up, hug her mother, and go to school with Elena and Bonnie. She couldn't wait for her teachers to greet her with their happy teacher-smiles, she couldn't wait to eat her apple in the break, or her peanut butter and jelly sandwich at lunch.

She was so content with being alive, and loved the warm, soft sheets on her body more than anything.

Then she sat bolt upright.

Her eyes flying open in a panic, Caroline looked around wildly.

She was in a bed. _A bed_. She hadn't been in a damn bed in five freaking years?! The walls around around her were beautifully wooden and lined with books. Her eyes shot to the ceiling, where there was an actual roof over her head.

It was then she felt the restrictions in her arm, and she looked down to see at least four needles sticking out of them.

Her heart and mind were racing, and she could feel her powers coming to the top of her mind, as the panic set in. She had no idea where she was, or what the hell she was doing there. Why in heck did she have a drip sticking out of her arm?

As the unfamiliar environment began to overwhelm her, Caroline fought hard to keep her control. She knew she could blow out every bit of glass in the room, as well as trip all the electricity if she wasn't careful.

Taking deep calming breaths, she focussed her mind on a different problem. Her escape. Something she could control. She looked at the door, and immediately wrote it off as a bad job. She had no idea where it led, and she learnt the hard way, after she had only been in New York a few weeks, _never_ to go through unfamiliar doors.

She glanced, instead, to the windows. They were large enough for her to climb out of, and they didn't seem to be electronically alarmed either. Pulling the needles from her body, she padded towards the expanse of glass, her feet very lightly gracing the floor, her fingers nimbly undoing the locks as she went.

One leg was through the gap, and her body was following when she heard a throat clear from behind her. She started, and smacked her head on the frame of the window.

"God dammit," she cursed, rubbing at the sore spot.

She looked up defiantly, straight into the eyes of the man from the street.

He looked in much better shape today than he had, whenever it was she had saved him. His clothes weren't tattered, and he wasn't matted in the dried blood, as he had been.

Caroline was a little ashamed to say how long she ogled his broad, muscular frame, as he leaned against the doorjamb.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Caroline said stubbornly, pulling her eyes from his body, as she slid her second leg through the window. "Back home."

"You don't have a home, kid," he replied, the stony expression not wavering for a second. "I'm Logan."

"Whatever you say, seeing as you know _all_ about me," Caroline drawled, ignoring his introduction. "Do you forget I saved _you_? You owe me. Let me go, and we'll be all square."

With that, Caroline was running through the grounds of the strange property. She only looked back once, and marvelled at the beauty of the place. It was a huge, old, stone mansion, with perfectly manicured garden beds. Caroline had never seen a place so grand, and she'd been to the Lockwood mansion.

When she reached the boundary, she slowed, jumping high enough to be able to cling onto the top of the gates. Once again, she was half over when she heard the throat clearing again.

"Am I going to have to get up there and get you?" he asked.

"No, you can stay down there and let me leave."

"Hear me out, this place it is –"

"Not my home," she said firmly. "See you."

She slid the rest of her way down the fence, and began walking along the road. She wasn't a 100% sure where she was, but she would find her way.

Who knows, maybe she wouldn't go back to New York. Maybe Elena Gilbert could find a new place to live with her perfect nuclear family.

She had almost lost sight of the mansion, some minutes later, when a car drove up and began to match pace with her. She sped to a jog, but car stayed level.

She rolled her eyes and huffed loudly, before veering from the edge of the road, to clamber over the nearest fence. Anything to get away.

Caroline heard a loud, frustrated growl emanate from the car as it screeched to a halt. She could hear the engine still running, and the man chase after her, but she kept her eyes forward.

"You're being absolutely ridiculous!" Logan shouted, in his exasperated, gruff voice.

"I'm being sensible," she shot back, as she moved further and further away from him. "I'm fine on my own."

He let out another irritated growl and she heard him stop.

"At least have dinner."

"I'm not hungry!" she shouted, though not loud enough to mask the light grumble in her stomach.

"Sure you're not," he drawled, and turned to go.

Logan wasn't really sure why he was perusing her. The dogged girl obviously wanted to do things her own way, something he definitely could relate to. But Charles had insisted he get her to stay, and Logan owed it to the professor to at least try.

"Why do you care so much? Yeah I helped you escape those MRD bozos, but it's not like I saved the entire freaking world."

"I don't care," he said, brusquely. "But you helped me, and there's someone back at that school that can help you."

"It's a school?" Caroline asked. For the first time since she woke up, she felt a flicker of interest stir within her.

"Professor X's school for gifted youngsters," he said, resigned.

"I'm not exactly young," Caroline scoffed, though she couldn't quite shake the creeping feeling of hope that was spreading through her.

"Yes, you are, kid," he said. "Yes, you are."

Caroline was watching him closely and saw a shadow fall across his face, like he'd seen more things than he wanted, and lived longer than he should have.

And it was that, more than anything else, that had her walking back towards him. It was almost as if maybe he wouldn't hate her for the things she'd done in the past.

Maybe she could finally feel at home.

xxx

Caroline was regretting going back the moment she stepped through the doors.

There were flocks of young people, milling about the halls, all of whom seemed very taken with Logan and very unsubtly interested with Caroline.

Perhaps once, long ago, or even if she'd had a normal life, she would have revelled in the attention. But it felt disconcerting. What if someone recognised her? What if someone asked her name? What would she say?

"This way to the dining hall," Logan murmured.

"I don't want to go," Caroline said, skittishly. "I don't want to be here. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to go now."

Logan groaned again, but changed course, steering her away from where he indicated the dining hall was, in the opposite direction, until she was faced with two large wooden doors.

There was a gold plaque on the door that read ' _Charles Xavier_ '.

Logan knocked once, then entered.

Behind the desk, was a bald, kind looking man. He was neither particularly young, nor particularly old. His eyes were alight with a curiosity as he surveyed her, and Caroline found herself just trusting him, for no reason other than she felt safe in his presence – and it was putting her on edge.

"Good evening," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. When she merely eyed the hand suspiciously, he smiled, and continued, "My name is Charles Xavier or –"

"Professor X," Caroline drawled. "Yeah, I figured."

He just smiled that tranquil smile of his while he watched her.

Caroline was beyond uncomfortable with the entire situation. She didn't even know these people, what if they were secretly working for the MRD or for some other government agency.

"Well, you know my name, what's yours?"

It was a standard enough question, but it had Caroline itching to bolt for the gates again.

"Look, Sir," she said, ignoring both his title and question. "But I don't know what this place is, or what you want from me. But I do know that I want to get back to my life. Thank you for keeping me safe while I was out of it, but I really can make it on my own from here."

She offered him a tight and began to turn to the door.

"Hiraeth," the professor said.

She paused for a moment, surprised that they had managed to uncover her street name. But it wasn't like it was that hard. She'd been on those streets for years, everyone knew everyone.

"So you know what I'm called?" she shrugged.

"I want you to stay here and learn with us," the professor said, dropping all pretext of pleasantries.

Caroline raised her eyebrow, wholly unimpressed.

"We know what you are."

"Yeah, no shit," she sneered. "I control things with my mind. I'm not special."

"ON the contrary," he said, coming around his desk for the first time, and his wheelchair humming lightly as he came. "I believe you are very special."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first person to tell me that," she muttered. "But it doesn't make it true."

Caroline turned away again, her hand on the door. She heard him sigh and roll closer towards her.

"Please, let us help you."

Once again, it wasn't the words that caught her attention, rather the fervency of them. Caroline knew that this Charles, or Professor X, or whatever she was supposed to call him, really wanted to help her. No ulterior motive.

"You can stay here with us; the room you were in can be yours. You won't even have to come out for a couple of weeks while you adjust. You and I can do one on one lessons in the evenings."

She looked into his eyes, so full of goodness, and she was on the brink of agreeing, when Damon's demonic eyes flashed behind hers, then the eyes of the nameless man from her bedroom that night, then Damon's blank eyes, and she couldn't agree.

"I don't need helping."

This time she got the door open and was half way down the hall when she heard the call, "Please, Caroline."

And she froze, her body and mind betraying her usually collected exterior.

It was a name she'd not heard fall from anyone's mouth in her presence for over five years. It was a name she protected at all cost. It was an identity, a link to a former life, one she didn't want to ever have to face again.

Caroline steeled her nerves and turned slowly, almost menacingly, back towards the professor and Logan standing in the office, a stony expression on her face.

"I don't go by that name anymore," she gritted out, her voice as steady as she could make it.

The man smiled softly, sympathetically, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, as she made to turn away again.

"I want to learn about you, Caroline. Logan here told me about your amazing control over your power. You are so very young. Most people your age have barely even discovered their powers, yet you… You were able to do something truly incredible. Your ability to control –"

Then Caroline snapped, all the she had carefully cultivated over the last half decade, came spewing out at this kind man, for bring it all up again.

"My ability to control? Are you kidding? Do you know what I did the first day I found out I had the stupid powers? I killed a man. I _killed_ him. Do you know how I killed him? I invaded his mind, and made him feel all the pain he'd ever made me feel, and he couldn't handle it. How was I supposed to? How was I supposed to come to terms with losing everything? Where the hell were you people back then? Where the hell was he? And all his talk of greatness. I'm not special, I'm not great, I'm not anything. I'm not anyone. I just want to live in peace."

Stubborn tears began to fall down her face, and Caroline saw Logan look away, to let her fall apart unobserved. But the professor's piercing eyes kept boring into hers.

"You can live peacefully here," he said softly, not wanting to spook her. "That's why I created this place. Please, the streets are becoming more and more dangerous by the second. Let someone be there for you, Caroline."

"No one's ever been there for me in my life," and she hated the truth that wavered in her voice as she said it.

"We will be," Logan stated.

"We will," the professor promised.

And for some unknown, insane reason, Caroline felt herself give in. The desperate yearning she had to find a home overriding every instinct she'd developed in her short, but oh so long, life.

"Fine."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Lord knows when the next chap will be ready for posting. :) Let me know what you thought! bfnnfe.


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